


Interlude

by ChrisLeon



Category: Johannes Cabal - Jonathan L. Howard
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Johannes is unconscious the whole time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisLeon/pseuds/ChrisLeon
Summary: Horst is left alone with his thoughts while waiting for Johannes to wake up. He takes the time to consider some things.Set in the brief period between the end of The Fear Institute and the beginning of The Brothers Cabal.
Relationships: Horst Cabal & Johannes Cabal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Interlude

It was strange, being back in the old house. So much was different, but even more disconcerting, was how much had remained the same. 

When he’d first arrived, he hadn’t had time to take in the changes made to the décor. Something was very wrong with Johannes and Horst needed to fix him. The fate of the world depended on it and so did his little brother’s life. 

Now, though, he had time to think. He didn’t particularly like thinking. When he was younger, before everything had gone so wrong, he’d never really needed to think. He did well enough in school to get by, his natural charm made finding friends and partners easy. He’d never had any real reason for introspection or internal debate. 

After, things had happened and suddenly he found himself locked away with nothing to do _but_ think. Well, think and host spider races, but those hardly counted as entertainment. 

He’d fallen into a dark place in that tomb. Figuratively, on top literally of being locked in a vault. His moods swung wildly from one extreme to another. Sometimes he’d rage, trashing coffins and pounding on the stone floor. Other times, he’d cry into the still air for salvation. He talked to himself, replaying every conversation he’d ever had, thinking of comebacks for arguments he’d lost in primary school. He thought over every decision he’d ever made and wondered where he’d gone wrong. He lived out scenarios in his head, lives he’d never get to live, things he’d never get to do or do again. 

Many times, he wouldn’t do anything at all. Exhaustion would set in-spiders weren’t very filling, after all-and he’d sit on the floor, willing his body to sink into the stone and disappear. 

And then, miracle of miracles, his prayers and half-mad ravings were answered. His brother came back for him. His brother, who’d damned him in the first place, had turned around and damned himself and came to Horst for help. 

Horst had said yes, of course. If nothing else, he could still assure himself that he was a better person than Johannes. Being turned into a monster hadn’t robbed him of his morals or conscience the way losing his soul had done to his brother. Though to be fair to the act of losing a soul, Johannes’ morals had always been a bit _off_. 

Working at the carnival had been another study in extremes. On the one hand, it was the closest he’d been to normal in a long time. The nocturnal operating hours meant he had plenty of time to interact with people, despite his new restrictions. It surprised him a bit, how easily he took to being back amongst people after having spent the previous several years going mad locked in a tomb while also adjusting to no longer being completely human. 

Feeding was easy enough with plenty of willing-if ignorant-donors and he got so good at playing human, he sometimes fooled himself. He’d get caught up in the games and the laughter and for a moment, he was a normal man who happened to run a carnival with his brother. It wasn’t the life he’d pictured for himself, but it could’ve been worse. Sometimes, it was even fun.

But the illusion never lasted. 

A child would trip and skin their knee and Horst would smell the fresh blood from the other side of the carnival. He’d catch a glimpse of one of the carnival’s employees and be reminded of the _wrongness_ of that place. Or he’d see Johannes wandering the grounds, doing his very best to convince unsuspecting townsfolk to sign their soul away to Satan.

In the end, those few moments of enjoyment weren’t enough to tip the scales. 

He’d stolen the blank contract as a precaution. For all the evil Johannes had done, to the world at large and to Horst directly, Horst didn’t want to condemn his brother to an eternity of torture. Or an eternity of filling out forms in a desert, as the reality would have been, though Horst didn’t know that at the time. 

But as he watched Johannes’ descent from general bastard to true agent of evil and tempter of souls, he knew what he had to do. He could save 99 souls in exchange for 1. That that one belonged to his brother was not something he let himself consider. It wasn’t like he planned on living with the consequences. 

Walking into the sun that morning, he’d been at peace with his decision. Johannes called after him, desperation clear in his voice and it reminded him of a time several years ago when he’d been the one calling out. Funny how even though their positions were reversed, he was still the one who ended up dead. 

And then he wasn’t dead. 

Well, he was kind of dead. But not as dead as he had been. And he had not been given much time to consider this sudden change or that the last thing he’d done of his own volition was kill himself. 

And from his unwanted resurrection to his induction into and subsequent defection from the _Ministerium_ to his hasty escape with the Dee Society to the cross continental flight that ended with him having to rescue his brother who’d gotten himself into some new kind of mess, Horst really hadn’t had time to think about what happened. 

Now, he could do nothing but wait. The situation with the _Ministerium_ was pressing, but Johannes was no good to them if he was too weak to stand. 

Horst settled on one of the armchairs in the living room. The house was dark, but that meant little to his enhanced sight. He still had several hours before he’d have to hide himself away. He could hear Johannes in the other room, his soft breathing and the blood pumping in his veins, almost fully human at this point, was as audible to Horst as a clap of thunder. Around him, the house creaked and groaned, for the most part, these were simply the sounds of an old house. One of the hatboxes on the mantel was humming a soft tune, not quite singing, not yet, at least. 

The boxes on the mantel aside, the living room was almost exactly how he remembered it. It wasn’t surprising, really. Johannes was very goal oriented and redecorating the living was probably very low on his list of priorities. 

Many years ago, in that same house, though far away from where it now stood, they’d played as kids. Family dinners had been prepared in the kitchen. Horst had had friends over while Johannes stayed in his room and read. 

They were both so far removed from the children they had been. Horst had quite literally died and Johannes, well, he was certainly different. 

He’d won his soul back and the Dee Society claimed he’d even done some good with it. Horst wanted to believe them. He was desperate to believe them, but it seemed impossible that the version of his brother he’d last seen, soulless and terrible, was capable of any good. 

Then again, in their very last moments together, Johannes had tried to save him. Horst had just betrayed him and the year was up, he was no longer needed to run the carnival, and yet Johannes had still tried. 

And now…

Now, they were together once again, but Horst didn’t have to deal with that just yet. 

He didn’t particularly want to deal with anything that was happening around him. This business of evil overlords and monsters from other dimensions was really not what he’d signed up for and frankly it was exhausting. 

He’d killed himself and then been brought back against his will. Rather rude of them really. But, he figured, the _Ministerium_ was guilty of greater crimes than denying an undead man’s dying wish. 

He no longer wanted to die. Too much to be done. It would probably be selfish to kill himself again when the world was ending and he had the means to help prevent it. And impending apocalypse aside, he was tentatively excited to be alive again. Or at least, his version of alive. 

Of course, a lot depended on the man in the other room. Horst didn’t think he could take it if he was the same evil bastard from the carnival. If that was the case, he’d deal with him long enough to save the world and after that…

Perhaps planning for after the apocalypse was just wishful thinking, but Horst really didn’t want to die for a third time. 

The Dee Society had allowed Johannes to live, that had to count for something. He couldn’t be completely evil. If Horst had saved his life just for him to go back to wreaking havoc, leaving chaos and carnage in the wake of his determination to achieve his goal at any cost, Horst would have to do something. He couldn’t let it continue.

It would be easy to stop Johannes. Bodies broke so easily under his hands these days. 

He shuddered at the thought. Damnation had been abstract. All Horst did was steal a sheet of paper, everything that happened after had simply been Johannes’ own actions catching up to him. But to actually kill him, Horst didn’t think he could do it.

And he wouldn’t have to. Johannes had his soul back. It was probably too much to hope for him to be any sane person’s definition of normal, but he was no longer working on behalf of the devil himself, which was definitely an improvement. 

Horst sighed, more out of habit than any need to release air from his lungs, and stood from his chair. He wished the sunrise would come faster, just so he’d have an excuse to lose consciousness. 

He moved to the doorway of Johannes’ room. His brow was furrowed, something troubling him even in sleep. Or perhaps it was the last of his transformation taking place. He smelled human again, but Horst was no expert in these things. 

Soon, he’d be well enough to wake for real. Surely he’d want answers and Horst would provide them and hopefully his formerly soulless brother could find it in his strange, strange heart to help. Horst wanted answers of his own, but those would have to wait ‘til the world was in a little less peril. 

For now, all he could do was wait and hope. 

**Author's Note:**

> My first piece for this fandom. A bit of a downer, but still, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> If anyone has any prompts/requests for a Johannes Cabal fic, PLEASE let me know on [tumblr](http://vgorodye.tumblr.com) ! I'd love to write more for this fandom.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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